Chapter 8
EIGHT
brINLEY
“That stupid, arrogant, assface, piece of—” I clipped off the slew of profanities I was gritting through my teeth when the front door of the office swept open.
Great.
Another customer. Just what I needed when I’d had zero clue how to answer the questions of the first guy who came in.
But I guess I was really good at faking my way through.
Pinning an artificial smile to my face, I pushed to standing from where I’d been sitting in front of that dinosaur computer pretending like I was actually going to accomplish something using it.
Then my teeth were actually snapping shut when I saw who came through the door.
Nerves scattered through me on a gust of apprehension.
It was the woman and tiny boy from last night.
The toddler’s hand was in hers, and she was smiling this dazzling, sweet smile, like she’d expected walking through the office door was going to be the highlight of her day.
I itched on my heels.
Maybe it was gawk at the prisoner day.
Only warmth was oozing out of the young woman as she stepped inside, her voice riddled with anticipation. “Oh my gosh, you have to be Brinley.”
Gulping, I struggled to keep that smile pinned to my face. “Yep, that’s me.”
“When I heard you were coming here, I couldn’t wait to meet you.”
I wondered what she’d think if she knew the way Silas had had me pressed against that desk two hours ago.
Because it’d felt…scandalous. Like we’d been two seconds from something splintering between us and igniting into what it absolutely could not.
Or maybe I’d only been projecting, imagining that he was feeling the same insanity I was feeling whenever the man got within a hundred-yard radius of me.
A fool wondering what it would be like if he slipped his hand under my skirt.
Which that right there was the most outrageous, implausible part of it all.
The fact that I would even think it. Allowing even a moment’s entertainment of something that normally sent me into a spiral.
And he just had to be the man I was having those preposterous flashes of fantasies about. Not really afraid of him but afraid of the way he made me feel.
It made me sick.
I knew what this was, though.
It was the clashing of strain and trauma. The memories up against whatever bullshit Dereck had gotten himself into.
That was it and nothing more, and I wasn’t about to allow myself to fall prey to my own weaknesses and insecurities.
It had nothing to do with the fact Silas Mercer was regrettably the hottest man I’d ever seen and had this lure about him that kept creeping into my thoughts and whispering across my flesh.
A shiver raced again. I stomped it down into nonexistence where it belonged.
Get your shit together, Brinley.
This guy was married or taken or what the hell ever.
I mean, she was standing right in front of me.
She had that fresh face look. Rich, dark brown hair with matching freckles sprinkled across her cheeks.
Adorable.
Obviously sweet.
Bristling with some kind of unfound excitement.
I returned a smile that I hoped matched hers. I was lucky that poor little boy didn’t burst into tears because I was pretty sure the only thing I looked was deranged.
But he was grinning too, dancing back and forth on his little feet as he clung to the woman’s hand, a blue blanket that looked like he dragged it everywhere with him hooked in his elbow.
Okay.
Woman felt like a stretch.
She was young.
Twenty-one to twenty-three, tops.
More evidence against Silas Mercer’s lackluster character.
What a skeeze.
She had to be ten years younger than him.
“I’m Elena.” Her shoulders hitched to her ears when she said it. “We almost came over first thing this morning when Silas said you started at eight, but I figured I needed to give you a little time to get settled before we descended on you.”
Get settled?
There wasn’t going to be any ‘getting settled’ into this place.
Surviving or escaping were clearly the only options.
Escaping sounded like a really good plan right then.
“And this is our favorite little Kai.” Adoration gushing from her, she gestured at the little boy.
He raised his tiny, chubby hand that clutched a toy motorcycle and vroomed it through the air.
“Kai mowercycle!”
His little voice was garbled as he showed off what clearly was a prized possession.
I looked around, wondering how exactly I was supposed to be handling this.
I felt like I was being attacked by sweetness.
Kind of like death by chocolate but a little less enjoyable.
Or maybe the whole problem was them walking through the door was the first bit of comfort I felt since I came to this place.
“Hi, Kai. I’m Brinley,” I whispered.
“Hi, Bwinwey. I got a mowercycle. Vroooom.”
He flew it through the air.
Bwinwey.
God, was it possible a child could steal your heart in a beat? Because crap, this kid was adorable.
“That’s an awesome motorcycle,” I forced out.
“You likes it?” He beamed like I’d just paid him the greatest compliment. His soft brown hair curling around his ears and wisping down his neck.
Cheeks chubby and pink.
“I do.”
“I is one,” he told me with a bob of his head.
He’d come clad in black jeans and a white tee and Converse on his feet. He had a fake tattoo of a heart that was beginning to peel on the back of his hand.
Hands down, he was the cutest little rebel ever. Hopefully his father’s bad behavior didn’t rub off on him.
“Almost two,” Elena clarified. “And I am twenty-two.”
With a slight laugh, she shimmied her shoulders, sending her ponytail swishing.
Elena was clad in a pink tank, high-waisted jeans, and sandals.
Definitely not dressed like the few women I’d seen hanging out around the bonfire last night.
She dipped down and scooped up Kai.
“You probably didn’t actually want to know that.” Self-deprecation rolled out of her as she inched closer to the high counter that separated us. “But just in case you see me sipping on a beer, I didn’t want you to run over and snatch it away from me like some of these punks like to do!”
She raised the last portion like the handful of men working in the bays attached to the office would overhear.
“I swear to God, they treat me like I’m ten,” she mumbled under her breath.
She leaned against the countertop, a tease all over her face. “Or maybe you did want to know because friends know these things about each other, right?”
It sounded almost hopeful.
My head spun. I was having a heck of a time trying to keep up with what in the world was happening.
“Um, yeah, I guess they do.”
Silence wafted around us before her brows lifted to her hairline in a prodding question.
Wait, what?
Is that what she was suggesting?
That we were supposed to be friends? And if so, then clearly I was supposed to reciprocate.
“I’m twenty-six.” I choked out the words.
I was surprised she didn’t fist pump the air with the way she grinned. “I feel like that’s perfect. I mean, there are a lot of women roaming around here, but I don’t think they really like me.”
Okay, I thought it was impossible not to like her, and I hated Silas Mercer even more for it.
I bet he treated her terribly.
I bet he lied and manwhored and complained and left her waiting for him at night.
That was if he didn’t treat her really, really badly, as if all of that wasn’t horrible enough.
Rage blistered through my insides at the thought.
If he did, I’d take her with me when I left. I’d figure out a way to get her and that adorable little boy out of here to someplace safe.
Maybe I’d take this whole freaking place down when I went.
Set it on fire.
“And how in the world could someone not like you?” I couldn’t help but give her the truth.
“Right?” She tossed her head back with a tinkling laugh, then she was back to looking at me with a cheeky smile.
“And maybe they don’t not like me. I think maybe they’re just leery of me or something? You know, because of my position?”
She whispered that part like it was a secret.
Right.
Her position.
Being with Silas, their president. I was suddenly burning with a thousand friendly questions.
Like how long had they been together and how on God’s green earth did she put up with his pompous ass?
But I didn’t let any of them go, and her smile was softening as she peered at me. “What do you think of your room? I know it’s small and everything, but I wanted to make sure it was cute and comfortable.”
Surprise jetted free. “You’re the one who decorated my room?”
She shrugged a self-conscious shoulder. “I hope you like pink. It’s my favorite, obviously.”
“What kind of weirdo doesn’t like pink?”
I had to admit I was feeling a whole lot better about that pink knowing where it came from. Thankful that room wasn’t some sort of strange kinky torture chamber.
“Right?” She giggled, swaying Kai before a bit of shyness ridged her demeanor. “I knew I was going to like you.”
I felt a gush of emotion roll out of her.
Not loneliness.
Something similar but different.
Isolation, I thought. Like maybe she was trapped.
Another rush of worry blustered beneath the surface of my skin.
Concerned about how she’d ended up here.
I had no idea who these men were or what they were like, but I’m sure they were capable of deplorable acts.
She snuggled Kai closer, and her voice dropped in gentle emphasis. “And I want you to know if you need anything at all, you can come to me. I know Silas probably told you to keep away from me, being the grumpy boss that he is, but as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t get to control everything.”
Confusion bound with the dread I felt for her.
She glanced toward the door that separated the office from the shop that had a small window in it before she returned her gaze back to me.
“I mean, I know he only worries with everything going on and he wants to protect everyone, but sometimes what we really need are people there to support us. Not just the muscle.”
Lightness filled the roll of her eyes.
I blinked, trying to make sense of her. Of this place.
Did she know I was little more than a prisoner?